One October night a baseball, innocent only in its whiteness, zigged when it should have zagged. In fact, it zigged right through the legs of Boston Red Sox first baseman Bill Buckner.
Unfairly or not, Buckner has since been blamed for the Red Sox' loss of the sixth game of the 1986 World Series, their loss of the seventh game of the 1986 World Series, world famine and the heartache of psoriasis. The Red Sox got rid of him before the next season was over.But Buckner was back in a Red Sox uniform Monday. And even though he wound up not playing in Boston's 5-2 win over the Detroit Tigers, his presence provided the most drama in the hours before the Red Sox's season opener.
Would the Red Sox fans, those long-suffering, never-forgiving Red Sox fans, cheer Buckner during pregame introductions? Or would they boo him as a living reminder that their team three years ago was one strike away from winning its first World Series since 1918?
For his part, Buckner refused to prejudge his jury during his team's warm-ups before the game.
"There wll be a lot of noise, one way or another," Buckner said, squinting the way ballpayers squint, squaring his jaw the way ballplayers square their jaws. Then he went out to first base to field some grounders.
Shortly after 1 p.m., the 1990 Red Sox players were introduced, one by one, to the fans. Wade Boggs, that "Margo thing" behind him, received cheers. So did Dwight Evans and Mike Greenwell.
This is not to say that the fans were indiscriminate in their praise. Some loudly booed ace pitcher Roger Clemens. And Rich Gedman mercifully was in the bullpen when boos answered the broadcasting of his name.
Then, at 1:07 p.m., the announcer said, simply: "Number 22. Bill Buckner. Infielder."
The prolonged roar of approval seemed to take Buckner aback. He tipped his hat. Then, as the cheers continued, he pumped his fist.